Test of Time: Separate Ways
by abuchild
Summary: Evelyn is back in 2011, living closely with Finnick. Not thinking a whole lot of her life in Narnia. While back in the 1940's, Peter is left conflicted about his feelings for her. Then out of the blue one day, the two are reunited...
1. Worlds Apart

**I'm back...well sort of. I just wanted to give you guys a little preview so I posted the first chapter. Things are a little different with this installment; the most noticeable will be the shifting of POVs. I'm going to be getting into Peter's head as well as a new character's. Each shift in point of view will be denoted by the person's name so hopefully it's not too confusing. **

**Also this story is rated M because there's a lot of angst/drama/sex so be aware of that. This first chapter has some in it. It's in Evi's last POV so you're welcome to skip over that if you don't feel comfortable reading it. **

**So here were are! Test of Time: Separate Ways...**

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><p><strong>- x -<strong>  
><strong><br>Evi**

**- x -**

* * *

><p>"Turn your anger into lust. I'm still here but you don't trust at all...And I'll be waiting. Love and sex and loneliness. Take what's yours and leave the rest, so I'll survive. God it's good to be alive!"<p>

Singing my heart's delight and bouncing on my toes, I toss my gym bag onto the counter. My stomach rumbles at me in anger for not eating before my intense workout so I raid the fridge to make myself a sandwich, still singing loudly to myself with my iPod drowning out all other sound in my ears.

"I'm torn in pieces. I'm blind and waiting for, my heart is reeling. I'm blind and waiting for you!"

"EVI!" I feel a pair of hand clamp down on my waist and I shriek, my scream echoing all throughout the kitchen but is soon drowned out by Finnick's laughter.

"You fucking asshole!" I yell, punching him in the shoulder while I clean up the lettuce that I spilled on the floor.  
>"Have you considered singing lessons, darling?" his laughing subsides somewhat as he presses a kiss to my cheek, taking the bread from me to make my sandwich for me.<p>

"Ha. Ha," I sneer, wiping crumbs from my hands.

Almost a year.

A _year_ since I came back from Narnia.

Sometimes it feels like that was so long ago and I barely even think about it. Other times it's all I can think about and I desperately want to get back.

"Where did you go this morning?" he chuckles, passing my finished sandwich back to me.  
>"Clearly," I point down to my obvious workout clothes.<br>"I thought I smelled something rather ripe," he teases, garnering a frown from me.  
>"Unlike <em>you<em>, I wasn't blessed with my Narnian body when I came back," I sink my teeth into the bread, my stomach grateful for the sustenance.

When I came back it was like everything was squeegeed clean from my body, no scars, no wounds and unfortunately no muscles. So I've been working my _butt_ off trying to get back in top-Narnian shape.

"I had time before the party," I add, wrapping the ear buds around my iPod.  
>"What party?" Finnick frowns but then smiles with another laugh as he dodges my fist once more.<br>"Keep it up, smart ass," I shake my head.  
>"Or what?" he smirks and I turn with a mischievous grin, "Or you'll do what, Evi?"<br>"That's for me to know and you to find out," I taunt but then let out a shriek as he tears up the stairs after me, hauling me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Finnick!" I laugh and wiggle as he tickles my sides, bringing me into my room where he throws me on my bed, pinning me down with his hands and legs. With his own impish smirk he leans over my lips getting closer and closer but pulls away every time I move to connect.

"Are you going to kiss me or not?" I let out a frustrated sigh.  
>"I don't know. You threatened me. I don't think you deserve it," he says with mock indignation.<br>"I think I deserve a break since it's my birthday," I smirk.  
>"Oh! Well in <em>that<em> case, if it's your birthday...I think you deserve a lot more than a kiss," he sexily growls with a smirk, his mouth finding mine.

I nip and bite at his lips, my tongue sliding and fighting with his, making him smirk against my lips. Kissing me back with equal fervor, Finnick presses my legs open with his knee to settle himself firmly between my thighs and roll his hips over mine. His movement entices a small groan from my lips and a shudder to spread through my body. My body tingles with anticipation as he bends my right leg around his body, his fingertips grazing against my calf and tantalizing the sensitive skin behind my knee.

His hips roll over mine once more and I throw my head back into my pillow in a more audible groan. His lips and tongue working in a perfect tandem down the length of my neck, eliciting a more whimpered moan from my throat as they ardently work over the sensitive spot just under my jawline.

Savoring the feeling of his mouth pressed to my neck, I let my head fall to the side, my eyes opening for just a brief moment. In that brief moment, though, I catch sight of the time: 4:11.

"Oh my God!" I gasp, abruptly throwing Finnick off of me and jumping off the bed with a graceful landing, "I need to get ready!" I panic, sliding into my bathroom.

"How do women turn it off so fast?" Finnick grumbles from the floor and I can only assume he glances down at the tent he's pitching in his jeans.

Yeah.

I think it's pretty obvious that Finnick and I reconciled.

For a while after I came back, I refused to let myself give in to the temptation he posed. I still believed I could get back to Narnia somehow and if I slept with Finnick, I'd only regret it if I ever had to face Peter again. Only...time went on and I grew accustomed to living in the 21st Century again and accepted that I am probably never getting back to Narnia. So Finnick was there and opportunity struck. We first slept together some months ago falling into a sort of "friends with benefits" relationship. I say "sort of" because I still believe Finnick loves me even if I don't love him. I guess it's my way of clinging on to Narnia...and I know it's not that _respectable_ to use him in that way but it just happened.

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><p><strong>- x –<strong>

**Micah**

**- x -**

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><p>"What's your name, hun?"<p>

I blink at the squat, elderly lady who's expectantly smiling at me.

My name?

Unsurely I rub the back of my neck, looking for some hint in my surroundings but I appear to be in some kind of underground cavern, a line of _oddly_ dressed people behind me, stopping just short of a...a...canyon? Perhaps?

"Sir, I need your name," she repeats, her smile faltering.

My eyes fall on a...box, a man next to me is holding, good letters emblazoned on the side and I look to the woman saying what I read, "Micah."

"One moment please," she grins at me again turning to another sort of box. This one is much larger and made of a completely different material than the black one the other Micah was carrying. She's intently peering at it and I wonder what should could _possibly_ be looking at.

When I'm about to ask her, she slides a funny sort of paper to me all kinds of numbers and letters printed on it. How did she produce it so quickly?

"Your train will be here shortly. Have a nice day," she nods her head, beckoning the woman behind me to come forward. As she passes, I notice her eyes quickly wander down the length of my body with a wide smile on her lips. Awkwardly clearing my throat, I walk off as I feel my face warm with embarrassment.

Many other people are standing by the canyon but I'm hesitant as I take a few steps closer. When I'm close enough to peer down into it, I find that it's not a canyon at all. It only drops down maybe the length of my body. The bottom, though, only confuses me more. It's lined with oddly-shaped metal bars extending in either direction to a long and dark tunnel.

Then the ground begins to shake and a sharp screeching sound comes from one of the tunnels. It must be some kind of beast! A dragon possibly? Oh, how I wish I had my sword at my side. Blast these foreign clothes I'm wearing!

But as the screeching becomes louder and louder as the beast looms near, it's not a dragon at all it's a...well...I'm not entirely sure _what_ it is. Some sort of transportation device because the people all lined up by the canyon—or that's what I'm going to call it since I have no other proper name—all walk _into_ the device. A group of people behind me ushers me into the device as well and I have no choice but to board, collapsing into one of the seats.

How _strange_ this place is!

All I wish is to go home...wherever that is.

Some minutes ago I awoke in that underground cavern with no name or memory...or rather, very few of them. I remember Narnia and very faint things about her grace and beauty. And I remember that I was a soldier, a rather important soldier. Alas...that is all. I awoke, finding myself in foreign clothes and carrying a burning desire to reach a place called Long Island.

"Hey...you're one of _them_!"

I frown at the man, who was suddenly shouting at me.

"Sorry?"  
>"One of those terrorists! <em>Look<em>!" the man roughly grabs my hand, pulling back my sleeve to reveal a mark on the back of my hand. Odd...I hadn't noticed it until now. Only, I don't have time to examine it further because now everyone around me is closing in.

"I'm no terrorist," I shake my head, "Honestly."

"Somebody! Get security! We've got one of them!" the man yells and I panic as I evade lunging arms from those around me. The device shudders to a stop and the doors open, presenting me with an opportunity to escape. My speed and dexterity from being a soldier seem to be with me as I slide through the doors and dash up the steps into the blinding sun scrambling into an entire new _world_ I never knew existed.

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><p><strong>- x –<strong>

**Peter**

**- x –**

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><p>"<em>Peter<em>! _Pevensie_!"

I wince at Mum's strict tone. Edmund is sniggering in the corner and I throw him a sharp look as Mum frantically examines the horrid black eye marring my face.

"Edmund! Upstairs, _now_!" she shrieks at him and I feel a sense of satisfaction hearing him sent away.

"What would your father think? Peter, I just don't understand what's gotten into you," she shakes her head, trying to busy herself with a pack of ice for my throbbing head, "You're getting in fights, you're earning poor marks in school..."

"It's nothing, Mum," I take the pack of ice from her with a roll of my eyes.  
>"I just...I just don't know what to do with you anymore," she spins on her heel, turning into the sitting room.<p>

Slightly wincing as I press the ice to my eye, I turn to stairs, ready to face all the criticism I'm about to hear. Ed will, of course, enjoy my moment of weakness. Lucy will only silently stare at me with a sad, disappointed look in her eye. And Susan. Susan will rattle off a lecture about how reckless I've been.

Bloody hell, I shouldn't have to _deal_ with the lot of them like this.

I'm a _King_!

High King Peter, The Magnificent.

I had wealth, power, respect, and lo—

Stop it, Peter.

My hand inadvertently tightens around the icepack as I resist the urge to punch the wall. The urge passes, being quickly replaced with longing and unhappiness.

Evi.

Nothing I do erases her from my mind. Everything and I mean every _bloody_ thing reminds me of her. I can't get her out of my head. To this day I can hear her sweet laugh, see her unforgettable dark blue eyes, _feel_ her in my arms. Ever since that kiss, that one _last_ kiss, I've been haunted by the taste of her lips, the way they felt against mine, and how I was so _positive_ she was in love with me. I loved her so much I thought it was just natural that she loved me just as much.

I loved her...no...I _love_ her.

I never stopped.

Even after she said that she was in love with Finnick.

I was a right foul git and I regret it to this day...I was just so _angry_. I'm _still_ so angry, that much is true...but there were so many other ways I could've handled it.

"Proud of yourself?" Susan's standing in her doorway, arms folded, eyes condescendingly staring at me.  
>"Shut it," I frown with a shake of my head, not bothering to stop.<p>

I'm not in the mood to get in a row with Susan. But when I enter my room, I groan suddenly remembering that I share with Ed. Ignoring his somewhat amused stare, I fall face-first onto my bed.

"Right good shiner you've got there, Pete," he smirks.  
>"Sod off," I mutter into the pillow.<br>"I hope you at least gave as well as you got."

He must really be keen on pissing me off.

"Ed, honest to God, if you don't shut your damn gob—"  
>"Right, right, right," he dismissively waves his hand, crossing the room to pull out a book from the shelf before relaxing into his bed.<p>

Flinching at the pain again, I sluggishly roll to my back, absentmindedly staring at the ceiling.

"You're not the only one who lost something," Edmund suddenly says.  
>"What are you talking about?" I lazily reply with my eyes close, willing the throbbing to stop.<br>"Evi, was my friend. Lucy's too. We left her behind _too_, you know."

I sharply glare at him, annoyed that he _dared_ to bring her up.

"_You_ didn't love her," I hissed.  
>"Maybe I wasn't <em>in love<em> with her but I loved her just as much as you," he frowns, throwing his book at me before leaving.

Good riddance.

But I'm not alone for long.

"Come to tell me how _beastly_ I've been lately?" I turn my head to the doorway—ice still pressed to my eye—to find Lucy timidly hiding round the corner. She shrinks back into the hall once she realizes that I was speaking to her.

"I'm sorry, Lu," I sigh, "Come here."

Once she hears the softened tone of my voice she comes running in, sidling up next to me in my bed. It takes her a moment to get settled and I'm forced to restrain my annoyance as the black eye twinges with her movement.

"Does it hurt?" she quietly asks, lifting up the ice to peek at the bruise.  
>"Not as badly as it looks," which is a bit of a lie.<br>"I'm sorry you're hurting," she says.  
>"Really, Lu, it's not that bad," I chuckle, my pride preventing me from saying how much it really does hurt.<br>"I don't mean about the bruise, Peter," she looks me dead in the eye. I turn my head away from her, my smile fading to a frown. Why do my siblings feel the need to keep bringing this up? I _don't_ want to talk about it. I don't _need_ to talk about it. I'm fine. I'm dealing with this!

"I'm all right, Lu," I manage to say, looking back at her.

She's still looking at me.

Even _Lucy_ can see through the lies I'm spinning: the ones to everyone else and the ones to myself.

"Is it, Evi?" she innocently asks.  
>"It's more complicated than that," I shake my head, offering her a small smile.<p>

How could I explain to my thirteen year-old sister everything going on in my mind when I don't fully understand it?

Lie.

What a rut I've fallen into with my habitual lies.

I know what my problem is...I love Evi.

I just don't have the courage to admit it to anyone.

* * *

><p><strong>- x –<strong>

**Evi**

**- x –**

* * *

><p>"Grab somebody sexy tell 'em hey!" Finnick suavely pulls me onto the dance floor, singing to me and dancing his hips up against mine. For a while all I'm able to do is laugh, thoroughly impressed with how fast he's picked up modern dancing and how fast he learned the lyrics to the song.<p>

"Excuse me, excuse me but I might drink a little more than I should tonight. And I might take you home with me if I could tonight. And baby I'm going to make you feel so good tonight."

So subtle he is.

The song ends and he surprises me when he pulls me into his chest, laying his lips on mine in a brief but fervent kiss.

"You're all sweaty!" I laugh.

Finnick laughs, running his fingers through his now shorter hair, and watches as I undo a couple more of the buttons on his black shirt.

"If you want to undress me, we might want to go upstairs," he tugs my elbow, speaking directly into my ear.  
>"Why? It's more fun with all these people to <em>watch<em>," I walk my fingers up his chest, biting my lower lip, thoroughly enjoying the stunned look on his face.  
>"You're joking, right?" he breathes.<br>"Yes!" I laugh, playfully pushing his shoulder but he grasps my hand, starting to pull me up the stairs.

"Come with me," he beams, a sudden excitement possessing him.  
>"Where are we going?" I chuckle at his enthusiasm, letting him pull me away from my friends and my party.<br>"_Patience_," he urges, bringing me into his room and sitting me on his bed.  
>"Finnick, I don't have much patience," I sigh, waiting while he rummages through his dresser for something, "Especially if yo—"<p>

I gasp and I'm instantly on my feet again, my hand covering my mouth. In Finnick's hands, gently laying in his palm is the necklace Peter gave me in Narnia, the very same one I thought I lost coming back to New York.

"How did you...where did...is it real?" I stutter, afraid that it might be a dream.  
>"I snatched it from your neck, remember? I've been waiting for your birthday to give it to you. I know how much it means to you," he chuckles and I tentatively reach out to touch it, a shiver running down my spine when I feel the cool gem touch my fingers.<p>

"Finnick, I...don't know what to say," I breathe, tears brimming my eyes, the sound of my raging party downstairs faintly in my ears. I watch him carefully place the necklace on the top of his dresser before he takes my face between his hands, sweetly pressing his lips against mine.

"Don't say anything," he whispers, his lips brushing mine when he speaks, "Happy Birthday, Evi."

He barely gets the words out before I bring his lips back down onto mine. I trace my tongue against the seam of his lips, my want from earlier today flooding back to me. Sensing this, Finnick parts his lips, his tongue sweeping over mine and his fingers travelling through my hair as his arm circles around my waist bringing me against his firm, lean body. I shiver, lost in all these sensations, Finnick's hands cradling my face and tilting my head so he can kiss me deeper.

I know where this is going...and this time we won't be stopping.

With this thought in mind, I moan into his lips, my fingers threading through his hair and my hips unconsciously grinding against his. A gasp escapes his mouth and then turns into a deep-throated growl as his hands slide to my ass and lift me into the air, my legs naturally curling around his body. Lust glazes over Finnick's eyes as he fumbles with the buttons on his shirt but he curses when his trembling-with-anticipation fingers cannot maneuver the last few. I bark out a laugh but am quickly subdued when Finnick tears his shirt off and collapses us onto his bed.

Another whimpering moan passes my lips as he places himself hard between my thighs, his primal need ringing clear with the swelling in his jeans. Everything Finnick does is setting my body off, lusting for more. His ragged huffs of breath, the desperate way his fingers sink into my skin.

His hand travels the length of my body, pausing at the bottom of my dress to play with hem before he dips his fingertips under the fabric and his hand travels back up the length of my body in skin on skin contact. With the other hand on the other side, Finnick repeats the motion, lifting the dress over my head, brisk air trying to cool my heated body. For a moment, Finnick's eyes drink in the sight of my bare chest, his hand teasing the curves of my breast. Desire blazes in his hazel eyes and my want for him only increases as I feel his fingertips feathering my skin down my chest to my navel and down farther still until they trace the lacey pattern of my panties.

My head falls back into the pillow and my eyes close, my body in agony and throbs with an animalistic need to feel him inside me. His fingers dance all around the inside of my thighs, slipping inside and out of my panties, absolutely tormenting me.

When I open my eyes I find him smirking at me and I sneer, taking him off guard when I roll us around so that I have him pinned beneath me. At his attempt to regain dominance I force him back into the mattress, reclaiming his mouth in a hard kiss, my tongue dominating his. A tortured moan fills the room as he kisses me back, my hand smoothing over the bulge in his jeans.

I pull back, "You take too long," I smirk, ripping his belt from his jeans and sliding them down his legs.

"Do I?" he smirks back, knowing that I caught him in his ruse, "I had no idea."

Never breaking eye contact with him, I bend down and slowly, torturously peel back his boxers and throw them somewhere behind me. Finnick's fully exposed body sends a deep shudder throughout my body ending somewhere between my legs and he tries to flip over again but I push him down with my whole body, my legs straddled over his lower half.

"Wait your turn," I purr in his ear, feeling his hands melt onto my hips.

Both my hands on the center of his chest and his hands guiding my hips, I move down, bit by bit, onto his hard length, biting my lip to conceal a moan while listening to Finnick's echo into the air. Not until I felt his length inside me do I let the moan slip and let myself fall forward on to his chest to kiss him fully, his hands still guiding my hips over him. Slow and steady we go, the pleasure building and building as the sweat drips our bodies. At some point Finnick's hand find's the place where our bodies are connected, his thumb swirling over the sensitive tissue in time with my thrusts. I capture his mouth in mine once more biting and pulling at his lips then smoothing them over with gentle laves of my tongue.

Finnick rolls his hips to change the angle I'm coming down on him and he perfectly hits my sweet spot, the moans tumbling from my mouth now loud and whimpering. My pathetic pants must drive Finnick mad for the motions he's making with his thumb are harder and faster, his pace increasing. My pathetic pants continue and all I can focus on is the building of ecstasy between my legs. Harder and faster he moves until I'm finally crying out his name, my body clenching around him and that's when he rolls us over, biting his lip trying to resist the urge to finish with me. Forearms holding him up, Finnick thrusts desperately into my body, my legs bending around his body.

He's close, so desperately close. His fingers sink into my hips allowing better leverage to violently pound into me, my stomach exploding with pleasure as I feel myself, too, coming to the edge. Fingers curling around his shoulders, my legs clamping tighter around his body I come undone for the second time that night, the waves of my orgasm pulling Finnick with me in my journey of ecstasy. My body quivers feeling him finish inside me and he clutches me as the sensations fade.

Finnick's exhausted body collapses onto mine and I'm forced to push him off to the side, his face burying itself in his pillow, the sweat still pouring down his back. Lifting his head slightly, he gives me a crooked smile that I laugh at, rolling back so that my chest is on top of him.

"Told you that you take too long," I bite my lower lip with a smirk, provoking him to laugh, his arms encircling my body closer to his as I bow down to soundly but sweetly kiss him.


	2. Buried Beneath All the Lies

**Hello, my dearest readers! Sorry I went kind of M.I.A on all of you but things got pretty crazy just before Christmas. Now that I am on break for a month I will able to spend time on this story! I hope you all are excited because I sure am!**

**Feedback is always appreciated! Please, please let me know how you like the new style or if you would like to see something else!**

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><p><strong>Chaper 2 Buried Beneath All the Lies<strong>

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><p><strong>- x -<br>****Evi  
><strong>**- x -**

* * *

><p><em>I'm dreaming. <em>

_And I know that I'm dreaming. _

_But I have no intention of waking myself up as I find myself back in Narnia, sometime after nightfall, just outside the Beavers' dam. I can hear the sound of rushing water and even feel the cold mist against my cheeks as I stand on the bank. _

_And Peter is there. _

_In fact, it's the same night Peter told me he loved me for the first time...I'll never forget it. _

_He was so angry with me, yelling at me even. And then he said it. He lost his nerve and told me he loved me... _

_"I've tried to convince myself otherwise. I've tried to push you away, to let you leave. And I've tried to tell myself that I don't...but...every time I see you... my heart races...Every time you're not around...I long to see your face again. You drive me completely mad," he adds with a tear-filled chuckle, "You're loud, you're unpredictable...but I love every single thing about you. You've got me so un-bloody-hinged, I can hardly stand it. And every time you go riding off I pray...just pray to God I'll get to see your beautiful face one more time so that I can tell you all of this," just like when it happened, he's standing in front of me cupping my face in his hands as the tears blaze down his cheeks._

_This was the night I realized I loved him back, that I had _always _loved him. There wasn't a thing I could do though. Arma would have kicked me out of Narnia so fast I probably wouldn't have even gotten a chance to say goodbye. _

_"I know that you can't feel the same way about me," he sighs, opening his eyes again to look at me, "And that's ok. I'll still be waiting."  
><em>_"Hold on, Peter. I'm going to find a way to you," I tell him, leaning my head against his chest and letting my eyes gently close. When I open my eyes, Peter's still there but he's much older about six years older and we're standing in front of the waterfall inside Cair Paravel's walls. _

_Another memory. _

_It is the day I regret the most and have pushed so far to the back of my mind I haven't even thought of it until now. This is the day I made Peter believe I didn't love him. He had kissed me, hard on the lips and I had kissed him back, effectively breaking the code. _

_I should have been kicked out of Narnia for it. But I made Peter believe I didn't love him and that I loved Finnick and had been with Finnick for some time. I didn't want to leave Narnia... _

_So I lied. _

_That was the biggest mistake of my life._

_"No," he defiantly shakes his head, "He can't take you from me. I won't let it happen. I love you, we love each other," he takes my hands in his, tears pooling in his eyes, "You love me right?"_

_Right._

_I catch him off guard when I bring his lips back down on mine, my tongue searching out his to just remember the taste and feel of this kiss. Peter's fingers comb through my hair and press against the small of my back, my hips connecting with his. I pull away from him, lips swollen and red from his passion and I smile, tears of joy streaking down my cheeks. _

_"I love you more than anything, Peter," I tell him, kissing away the unshed tears at the corners of his eyes.  
><em>_"You do?"  
><em>_"Yes, of course," I fervently nod with a warm smile, "I always have."_

_He lets out a contented sigh, leaning his forehead down on mine, my hands clasped in his._

_"Marry me, Evi," he whispers._

_But he fades...and Narnia around him as well and I'm seventeen again, in a city with which I'm unfamiliar. Peter is still with me—and Ed this time—but stranger still, they're both much older than me._

_"This doesn't feel right," I say, Peter's hand clamped around mine as we descend the stairs into a tunnel, a sign reading London Underground, "We're not supposed to go back."_

_I'm in my dream, but it's almost as if I'm a third person observer. I have no idea what I'm talking about...the words just come out of my mouth and my legs are moving but I'm not moving them._

_"_You _aren't supposed to be here and yet here you are," Peter points to me and I'm slightly annoyed at that condescending tone in his voice. He sees my frown and offers an apologetic smile with a brief kiss to my lips. _

_"What time is it?" Ed frowns on my right as we stop on the platform.  
><em>_"Nearly four," I reply, glancing down at my watch.  
><em>_"The train should be here by now," Peter mutters, peering down the tunnel and protectively bringing me into the warmth of his body._

_An eerie silence consumes the platform and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end as that feeling of foreboding creeps back under my skin. Even the other folk on the platform are becoming restless. _

_"This doesn't feel right," I mumble again, letting my head sink into Peter's broad chest.  
><em>_"No, you're right," Edmund says cutting off his brother who was about to protest, "Something's not right."_

_Almost as soon as he said it, the train comes rearing around the corner, going far too fast, slamming violently into the concrete walls. None of us have time to dive out of the way as the train derails, all hell breaking loose as I'm ripped away from Peter in the crowd. A haunting groan grips the entire station and suddenly the ceiling collapses, Ed not even able to yell as the rubble falls on him. Another sickening screech fills my ears and there's an odd, tingling sensation in my side but it's the sight of Peter that makes me scream. _

_So much blood. _

_He's utterly limp, slouched against the wall with the blood pouring from his head wound. Not a single muscle in his body stirs as I shriek and scream and wail his name._

"Peter," my eyes snap open, my mind focusing on the reality around me. For a long while, I'm not able to move. I just stare at the ceiling; the only other sound in the room is Finnick's heavy breathing next to me.

That dream was unsettling on so many different levels. For one, it just felt so _real_. I could feel what was going on...the pain no exception. And it was so clear...like I was living it.

Lifting my head I see that Finnick is next to me, lying face down with his arm draped loosely over my bare body. My stomach churns with guilt as I connect the dream with reality and I can't stand to be in bed with Finnick.

Peter.

I fight off a couple silent tears as I gather my clothes and pick up the gorgeous necklace from the top of the dresser. Its colors are changing just as the sun is rising outside, the pendent turning from dark blue to pastel, lined with silver.

How could I forget him so easily?

How could I just toss him aside and be with Finnick?

What in God's name happened to me?

I hated Finnick and loved Peter when I came back from Narnia.

And now?

I'm having sex with Finnick like it's no big deal.

The guilt consuming my body is suffocating and the filth that I feel makes my skin crawl as I look back at Finnick and remember what we did just hours ago. The sudden urge to shower overtakes me and I rush out of his room to my bathroom.

I remember now.

Finnick was just distraction.

I couldn't stomach the pain after returning to Earth and the hole that was left inside me was so big I didn't know what else to do. Finnick was my only link to Narnia so I indulged in him and made myself forget everything else.

Only now, Peter's necklace has just reminded me of it all.

I wish I never slept with Finnick. I just want the memory of last night and every other night to be wiped from my memory, to have all these marks and love bites on my body all washed away. And I scrub and scrub until my skin is red and raw.

I just wanted Finnick _off_.

To forget it ever happened.

But it will never be enough. I can never undo what happened between Finnick and me. For a while I just stand there in the hot water, crying into my hands wanting nothing more than to see Peter, the way his dirty blonde hair falls into his sharp blue eyes, the way his perfectly adorable smile stretches his entire face when he laughs, the way he tucks my hair behind my ear and illicitly whispers how he loves me.

"Peter, I'm sorry," I cry to myself, wrapping a towel around my body as I hold the necklace between my fingers.

I just want to see him.

Just one more time so I can tell him.

But he's in Nar—

Wait a minute...

My head shoots up with a sudden thought and I scramble from my bathroom to change into some clothes, tying the necklace around my neck.

As part of the Order I wasn't _allowed_ to leave Narnia, like I _physically_ could not leave unless I broke the code.

_So it is written: For as long as there is a Son of Adam on the throne of Narnia, The Order of Lion and all it entails shall be enforced _

I was returned home because _they_ were returned home! The Pevensies _aren't _in Narnia!

They're _here_!

"Get up, Finnick," I command, throwing a duffel bag on his legs, going to his dresser to start packing his clothes.  
>"Where's the fire?" he sluggishly asks, peering tiredly through one eye, "Have you showered already? Bloody hell, what time is it?" he grabs the clock on the bedside table.<p>

"Time to get up. We've got a plane to catch," I say, stuffing some shirts into his bag.  
>"Plane?" he rubs his hands vigorously over his face, shaking the sleep out of his mind.<br>"We're going to England," I say, throwing all his toiletries in as well.  
>"What's in England?" he pulls on a pair of boxers.<p>

"The Pevensies," I say, throwing him his bag before leaving the room.

* * *

><p><strong>- x -<br>****Micah  
><strong>**- x -**

* * *

><p>Narnians.<p>

I don't believe it.

There are Narnians in this strange world.

They're in hiding, deep below the surface of the ground in intricately built civilizations. As I was fleeing those men from that contraption, I was saved by a girl and a boy scarcely even twelve and they brought me here.

They say that Narnians somehow are stumbling into this world. A great sorcerer was transported here as well, gaining control over the humans of this world, convincing them that the Narnians are terrorists, branded with the mark I discovered earlier.

Since I arrived I haven't been able to take my eyes off of it. It's clearly the paw of a lion being struck through by a sword. What it means I have no idea, but there is only one being that could have placed it there.

Aslan.

Where is he in all this chaos?

Aslan is supposed to be our protector.

How could he let so many of us fall into this mad world?

"The chief wants to speak with you," an older gentleman says from the doorway of my small chamber. I can only nod as I stand to follow him.

The corridors are very dark, someone telling me that it's to conserve "electricity," whatever _that_ is. Many people whisper in hushed tones as we pass but I pay them no mind as I try to piece together all this strange information.

The way to the chief is incredibly confusing as we turn left then right, travel down some stairs only to turn right and up another set. My head is reeling by the time we reach the center chamber where the chief takes counsel.

"Wait here," the man says before slipping into the room.

Through the door I can hear the muffled sound of voices until the door suddenly swings open, light cascading from the room. I take a few tentative steps forward, spotting the gentleman who escorted me here and a striking creature I recognize as a Boreade.

I make no effort to conceal the frown that turns my lips.

How is a Boreade governing the Narnians?

"You seem unimpressed," he wryly smiles in his chair.  
>"Do I?" I snidely reply.<p>

The Boreade chuckles, something flashing in his eyes as he stares at me. It looked something like recognition. How could he possibly know me? I've never met him before in my life.

Wait.

Boreades.

Suddenly a whole slew of memories come flooding back to me.

Queen Gwyn.

She was working with someone...blast!

Why can I not remember?

"You see?" the man frowns, something that is shadowed on the Boreade's face as well.

"Do you not know who you are?" the Boreade asks.  
>"My name is Micah," I tell him, my headache throbbing in my temples.<p>

"How are we to be sure it's him?" the man asks, ignoring the fact that I'm in the room as well.

"Let me see your hand," the Boreade beckons me forward.

I hesitate.

"Come, come. I won't harm you," he urges and I cautiously step forward. I flinch when he roughly grabs my hand to reveal the mark. He studies it for a few minutes, examining each aspect of it: the lion print, the sword, the bow, and the curling letter B, the latter two symbols appearing sometime in the walk from my chamber.

"Do you not know who you are?" he asks again, "Think carefully."  
>"I..." but I don't finish my thought as I remember that my name is not Micah.<p>

I was a soldier...my father was a soldier...my mother was a star. Ilyria was her name. I remember her. She was so beautiful, almost angelic. But what happened to them? Why can I not remember my name or my father's?

"No," I shake my head, as my memories start to slip from my grasp.

The Boreade sighs, turning away from me.

"He cannot be used until he remembers," he tells the man.  
>"I'm right here," I bitterly say, annoyed with how they were talking about me, "What do I not remember? Do you know who I am? Just what in the name of Aslan do you want with me?"<p>

The Boreade and the man exchange furtive glances as I seethe with anger.

"You, Sire, are the last remaining heir of General Maxwell Beckett."

* * *

><p><strong>- x -<br>****Evi  
><strong>**- x -**

* * *

><p>"Yeah, you <em>really<em> need to stop," I frown at Finnick, kicking his nervously bouncing leg.

"This isn't natural. This isn't right. I want to get off. Get. Me. Off," he rambles, ignoring my request as he bounces the other leg while anxiously tapping his fingers on the arm rest.

"Would you shut _up_?" I groan, leaning back into my seat, "You're just _fine_. Turbulence is normal."

Even my stomach tightens as the plane takes another short dip, the seatbelt light blinking on as a stewardess comes on the intercom.

"Due to rough turbulence ahead, the captain has requested that you return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts," the cool voice instructs.

Finnick has his tightly around his waist before the woman even finishes her instruction. For a while, Finnick's worry was highly amusing but seven hours into the flight he's become the biggest pain in my ass. The plane jolts again, Finnick's hand clamping down on mine.

"I don't like this!" he hisses, squeezing my hand.

With an aggravated look I pry Finnick's hand off mine, "You being needy is highly unattractive."

"Shut your mouth," he grumbles, making me smirk.  
>"Relax. We're almost there. Just take a nap or something," I lazily say, picking up the sky mall for about the fifth time.<p>

For a while all he does is tensely bite his nails until he eventually settles back with his eyes closed. I watch him sleep for a moment, glad that he finally calmed down.

He really did _not_ want me to go. It was actually quite shocking how vehemently he protested us going, yelling and tearing my suitcase from my hands several times. Anger got the best of him and it scared me. There have been few times I've seen Finnick so angry. I just didn't understand why he was so against it.

A sigh passes my lips as my fingers smooth over the pendent around my neck. Ever since I got this back, Peter has been invading my mind non-stop, the sick feeling of doubt coming with it.

I don't know if I can do this.

The Peter is my head is going to be outrageously different then the Peter alive now. I'll be a young girl and he'll be an old man. I mean, what if he doesn't even remember me?

And then there's the possibility that he's already passed from old age...

But I push that thought to the back of my mind as I slide the magazine back into the pouch. My eyes flutter close as an uneasy sleep takes hold of me. That disturbing dream searing through my head.

Flashes of the derailing train, Edmund being crushed, my own screams as I see Peter.

"Evi."

Finnick's voice startles me awake.

"What?" I ask, rubbing my eyes as if trying to erase the images from my eyes.

"You slept through the landing. We're here."


	3. I Had a Heart

**Thank you for the reviews and such! You're feedback keeps me going!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3 I Had a Heart<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>- x -<br>****Peter  
><strong>**- x -**

* * *

><p>I don't know <em>what<em> I was thinking.

_"It'll be good for you, Peter," she said.  
><em>_"You haven't been out with a girl in ages," she said. _

And you bloody wonder why!

I burst through the gymnasium doors, striding into the crisp night, sweet, chilled air engulfing my nostrils and swelling my lungs. With my eyes closed I can even pretend it's Narnia in autumn, the dryads all turning orange and yellow as the leaves fall, the smell of the air turning earthy. Evi would be telling us all not to get her birthday gifts but we always did.

I fall onto the bench with a sigh as I think about her for the hundredth time that night.

The girl I came to the ball with is everything Evi is not. From the moment I picked the poor girl up she had no chance, I was already comparing her to Evi.

God, I'm such a bloody idiot.

My head falls into my hands as I fight the threat of tears.

This was a mistake. I should never have listened to Susan. She had said it was time for me to move on, that there were plenty of other girls out there who fancied me. For a while she had me convinced. I _actually_ believed I could escort another girl to the ball.

But I couldn't.

The girl had tried coming onto me while we were dancing and I flipped. I _yelled_ at her, calling her names, and telling her to find another way home. My God I acted positively ghastly.

I'll have to go and apologize to the poor girl.

I bring my face from my hands, pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger.

"Oi! Pevensie!"

At the sound of the angry voice I look up, spotting the fuming brother of the girl I insulted.

"Who the devil do you think you are?" he pushes me back as I'm rising to my feet, "My sister is bawling her eyes out in the loo saying you called her a whore!"

I stumble back, trying to keep my cool as I feel the heat rise to my cheeks.

"It was just a misunderstanding," I say with my jaw clenched.  
>"Right misunderstanding it must've been! What's the matter with you, Pevensie? Can't handle a little touch every now and then?" he prods, giving me another shove.<p>

Right, because _he_ knows what a real feminine touch is.

"That's none of your business," I retort, turning to walk away.  
>"Oh right, I forgot. You've got that little mink tucked away at home, the one you always fantasize about. What was her name again? Evelyn?"<p>

"What did you say?" I round on him, my muscles tight with rage.

How _dare_ he mention her name.

"Alls I said was you've got a whore of your own at home so you had to go and put down my sister," the arse smirks at me, knowing he struck a nerve.  
>"Take it back!" I snarl, advancing on him.<br>"Oh a tough guy now, are we?" he laughs even when I shove him back, "Go on then. Let's see what you've got."

His taunting demeanor quickly melts away as he swings a beefy fist at me. I duck under his punch, tackling him into the chain-link fence and throwing my fist in his face. His fingers curl around the fabric of my jacket and pull, my jacket ripping with a sharp hiss as he wrestles me to the ground. We're fairly evenly matched in height and weight but I'm able to best him, throwing him from my body and against the stone wall of the school in a heap. Spitting the taste of blood from my mouth I pull him from the ground and ram him against the wall.

"Now will you take it back!"  
>"Ok, ok! I'm sorry!" he defensively puts his hands up.<br>"That's right you're sorry, you pathetic arse!" I throw him through the doors of the gymnasium.

Pressing my fingers to my lip, I wince at the sharp pain and look down to see my fingers coated with blood. I pull off my tattered jacket and un-tuck the rest of my shirt. I would probably be getting another detention...maybe even a suspension.

But I hardly care.

I'm angry.

I'm a king not a _boy_.

I am a _king_!

A _knight_!

A _man_!

A _lover,_ damn it all!

All stuck in a child's body.

I am no child! I'm awfully tired of being told what time to go to bed, being told to finish my dinner, being told to do my homework, clean the house, watch my siblings. I'm all bloody tired of it.

I grew old in Narnia, into one of the most revered Kings in Narnian history. I was respected and loved by everyone, friend and foe. I've been through more than most people could even imagine in their wildest dreams.

Battles, love, death, triumph!

_That_ was my childhood. Not this...this _strange_ place. Finchley is no home to me. My heart is in Narnia. It will always be in Narnia...with her.

Evelyn.

It always circles back to her.

Evi was the best of Narnia...and then she was the worst... She made me believe that she loved me...all to turn around and run to _Finnick_. For all I know she had been with Finnick the entire time, just stringing me along for the fun of it.

Tears sting the corners of my eyes but I have no intention of brushing them away. The hurt she caused me runs so deep, I sometimes wonder if I could forgive her if I ever saw her again...

"Evi," I say her name, feeling the tears stream down my face. Small, feeble sobs reach my ears and when I realise that it's _me_ that's making them, I only break down more.

How _badly_ I want things to just go back to the way they were...when I believed she loved me and I loved her...when we were at peace in Narnia...When we laughed and played tricks on Finnick and Ed, fought side by side in battle, when she'd be my private counsel, listening to whatever problem—however small—I may have had. And then those times...after a long fought battle...we would steal away into the woods during the celebrations away from prying eyes and ears and lay together under the stars in each other's arms...

But that was _before_ I knew what was going on. I'll never forget the nauseating pit I felt in my stomach when she rejected me and told me the truth...the very same feeling that's tormenting me now that's making me choke over my pathetic sobs.

This is what she's done to me.

It's because of _her_ I'm spiraling out of control, so angry and so rotten to my friends and family.

But at the same time...all I want to do is get back to Narnia...

...Get back to _her_.

* * *

><p><strong>- x -<br>****Evi  
><strong>**- x -**

* * *

><p>Susan is the only Pevensie listed in Finchley living in a small house on Station Road just outside Finchley Central. Lucky for me otherwise I don't think I'd be able to navigate around Greater London.<p>

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I hear Finnick say behind me as I look up at the little cottage.  
>"It's just Susan," I tell him, not really quelling the nerves dancing in my stomach.<p>

I can only hope she has forgotten the bitterness between us.

Finnick sighs joining me at my side as a rumble of thunder passes overhead in the dreary overcast sky. He holds out his hand for me to go on up to the porch. With a deep breath, I rap a few times on the door, muffled sounds echoing from the other side and I think my heart stops beating as my breath catches in my chest. The door swings open to reveal a girl probably around my age. She's wearing scrubs and her name tag reads Hannah, Assisting Caregiver.

"Who are you?" she frowns at Finnick and me.  
>"Hello, does Susan Pevensie live here?" I unsurely ask, praying my Narnian accent doesn't sound too Americanized.<br>"If you're looking to sell something, she's not interested," the girl makes to close the door but Finnick stops her.

"Wait! We're not here to sell you anything. We're Susan's niece and nephew," he easily lies, the girl stopping and curiously looking at us.  
>"I wasn't aware Miss Susan had any other relatives," her words puzzle me.<br>"I assure you, she did. I'm Evelyn and this is Nick. Is Susan home?" I ask.  
>"She's just sat down for tea. Come in," the girl's wary gaze softens and ushers us inside.<p>

The foyer is strangely bare and it unsettles me.

"She's upstairs, first door on the left," she points.

We start to walk up the steps when she stops us, "I ought to warn you, she can be a bit barmy at times. She's not all there."

Finnick looks at me to gauge my reaction.

"No worries. I'm used to that sort of thing," I stoically say.

After dealing with Granddad I'm sure Susan can't be much worse...

Finnick gently pulls me the rest of the way up the steps and we stop just outside the room.

"Are you ready?" he softly asks.  
>"No," I breath, walking into the room anyway.<p>

If the foyer was utterly bare, than this room is positively cluttered. Every possible inch of wall is covered in childhood pictures of the Pevensies and their old home. Peter riding a training bike, Lucy's first birthday, Edmund on his first day of school, the boys covered head to toe in mud, Peter dancing with Susan. They all vary from when they were very young to after they came back from Narnia, each one tugging at my heart harder and harder as I try to control the emotion swelling in my chest. A handsome portrait of Peter catches my eye. He's about twenty-two, perhaps? His hair is quite long in the photo but that's not what catches me. It's the way he's looking into the camera.

He's sad.

Bitter even.

I can see it so _clearly_ in his eyes.

What happened to you, Peter?

"Who's there?"

Susan's voice tears my attention away from the portrait and I suddenly remember that I'm not alone. Risking a glance at Finnick, I see he's been watching me the entire time and I can't discern the look on his face.

"Susan," I softly say, trying to ignore Finnick's eyes as I round to the other side of her wheelchair.

She's terribly frail, tiny trembles shaking her hands as she lifts her cup to her lips, skin wrinkled everywhere I look, and her hair is wiry and gray, pulled tightly back into a bun. But under all that, I can see Susan, the Susan I remember.

She sips her tea, eyes never leaving me until she has to look to set the cup back down.

What she says next makes me nauseous.

"Who are you?"

* * *

><p><strong>- x -<br>****Peter  
><strong>**- x -**

* * *

><p>Eight months.<p>

Eight _bleeding_ months since we've returned from Narnia.

I deliver a swift kick to the small stone in my path as I saunter home from a late day at the Hendon House from serving another detention. Surprisingly enough this one wasn't for fighting...no, I've given up the violence for now.

It requires too much effort.

I suppose this is the next stage of my _phase_—as my mother calls it.

Apathy.

I don't _care_ about things anymore. Not my homework, the war, my chores, my teachers, my appearance—I'll admit, my hair has gotten _quite_ unruly as I haven't had a hair cut in some time.

The only thing I care about these days is my family and even with them my patience is wearing thin...

Edmund is an annoying little blighter, finding amusement in my "fall from grace" as he gets all the "privileges" I once enjoyed. Susan is much, much worse, adjusting _extremely_ well to life back in England. It's frustrating how she just fits right in as if nothing ever happened in Narnia. It's almost an insult to everyone we ever knew. Then she'll go off about how I should do the same...just _forget_ about Narnia.

_Forget_ about Mr. Tumnus, Aslan, the Beavers, Oreius...Evi...

And then there's Mum. Mum is by far the worst of the lot of them but I won't get into the beastly details. When I'm at home I just humor her, do what she says and she'll leave me alone. I only wish the professors at the Hendon House would follow her lead...all I want is to be left alone.

Just until Aslan calls us back...

The thought of going back brings me to a stop and I simply stand on the sidewalk, letting the chilled winter breeze sail through my hair. I adjust the rucksack on my shoulder and let my head fall back and my eyes close. The icy wind engulfs my nostrils and burns a path down my chest.

It's a quiet evening.

No cars in the streets.

No planes in the sky.

No children out on the playground to my right.

Just the wind.

I'm unable to resist the allure of the night and I turn off to the swings, delaying my return home for just a bit longer. Digging my heel into the frozen ground and I gently sway myself, the slightly rusted chains of the swing creaking with the small motion.

I don't know where it comes from...or even why...but a sudden peace overcomes me...but it's not just any kind of peace...it is almost like..._Aslan_. It feels like he's around, like he's just out of eyeshot or something. Almost confirming my thought, another gust of wind kicks up my hair from out of my eyes and I swear I can almost hear the roar of a lion...

"Please," I hear myself whispering and the wind thrashes about, bringing me to my feet.

"Please," I say again, louder this time as I rise to my feet, "Send me back."

More fiercely now the wind blows and I stagger in its wake.

"Send me back!" I shout to the sky, "I must go back! I don't belong here! Can't you see that?"

I'm knocked to my knees from the unyielding gale and I grow even more frustrated.

Why won't he listen to me?

Can't he see that I'm in misery here?

"Am I not to return?" I try to clamber back to my feet but am forced once more to the ground and I can't help the tears of frustration that well in my eyes. One last time I try to stand up to the lion, a pathetic attempt as it is, and I am driven back into the snow, my warm tears melting it away as I just lie there amidst the hellish wind.

"Fine!" I cry openly into the wind, pushing myself to my knees, "Have it your way! Just...just promise me she isn't as miserable! Promise me she's happy. As long as I know she's happy, I don't care if I ever go back."

The wind immediately ceases.

* * *

><p><strong>- x -<br>****Micah  
><strong>**- x -**

* * *

><p>My name is Simon Beckett. In Narnia I had a wife named Annaliese and a daughter named Evelyn.<p>

But for the life of me, I cannot picture their faces.

The Boreade tells me Annaliese was killed by someone of the name of Jadis. Stranger still, he tells me this Jadis killed _me_. He believes Aslan has sent me from His Country to help restore order in this world.

He says that Narnia doesn't exist anymore.

This thought sends my head reeling and I can find no peace in sleep. There's too much I still don't understand...Who is the man who took over this world? Who is Jadis and why did she murder my family? Where is my daughter?

The Boreade said that she was missing but didn't elaborate any further.

How could she be missing? Where could she even be?

He said that she's the key to revolution and without her they have no hope of stopping the sorcerer.

It all seems eerily familiar, like I've been in this situation before or heard this from someone before, but—like everything else from my past—I can't be sure of it.

A gentle knock at my door brings me from my thoughts.

"Come in," I say, surprised when the Boreade is the one who strides into my room.

"I hope I did not wake you, Lord Beckett," he bows.  
>"Not at all," I shake my head, gesturing to the chair at my desk, "Please, sit down."<br>"Thank you," he graciously nods, sighing as he takes a seat, "I reckon you're wondering why I have sought you at such a late hour."

"After everything that has happened today I just sort of go with it," I run my fingers through my blonde hair.  
>"I understand. I cannot tell you everything at the moment, for I still do not understand it all myself. But I wanted to give you the opportunity to ask me anything that is on your mind," he sighs again.<p>

I didn't even have to think about the question, it just came out, "What happened to my family?"

The Boreade's face twists into one of sadness.

"From what I understand, many centuries ago Jadis was quickly gaining power in Narnia. Anneliese, your wife, was the youngest princess of the King. For these reasons, Jadis killed her. She was also hunting for your daughter, as for why, I am not sure. I believe that you may know the answer for it is _you_ who sent her to Earth to live with Maxwell Beckett."

"Evelyn is here?" I hopefully ask.  
>"I'm afraid I do not know. She could be here or in Narnia or she could be here but in a different time all together."<p>

"What do you mean? I thought you said Narnia doesn't exist?" I frown.

"Not _here_ in this time it doesn't. But it does in the past. That's where I met her," he reveals.  
>"You knew my daughter?"<br>"I did," he nods, "She was a fiery little thing. Incredibly passionate about her duty. She was General of Narnia even."

My daughter, a warrior? That is not how I would have raised her. She would've been a lady of the court...a princess.

"Did she have a family of her own?" I quietly ask, wondering if she ever got the life I wanted her to have.

"Sadly no. But she did love and she loved him fiercely. It was forbidden, you see, since she was a member of The Order of the Lion. So she never told him that she loved him."

"Who is it you speak of?" I wonder.  
>"The High King of the Golden Age," he answers.<p>

High King?

Aslan must have put great faith in that man to name him High King.

And my Evelyn was in love with him.

"Did he love her?"  
>"More than anything," he solemnly replies.<br>"But she couldn't be a part of the Order. By blood she's a princess and royalty cannot be bound to the Order and it's code," I frown, wondering how she could possibly have been tricked in such a way.

"I fear, My Lord, that it was Jadis' doing."


	4. I Must Be Strong

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, messaged, favorited, or subscribed to me and/or this story! I'm so glad you all are enjoying it! Just as a little side note, things aren't going to be easy for Evi and Peter any time soon. I promise, though, the wait is going to be well worth it.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4 I Must Be Strong<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>- x -<br>****Peter  
><strong>**- x -**

* * *

><p>We're going back.<p>

We _are_ going back.

That's what I have to tell myself every morning to get through the day. Sometimes it's enough...others...not so much. Today was good day, as it were.

School is over for the term.

Summer has begun.

And my father is slated to return home today on leave.

Heaving a great sigh, I close _Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_ and place it on my desk before lunging into my bed, burying my face into the cushioning fabric of my pillow. Each day I read a chapter from that book and each day I become more frustrated by the 'vernacular' in which it was written.

"Pete, Mum says supper is ready," I hear Edmund's voice echo from the bottom of the staircase. I don't bother responding, I know either way he's going to come up after me.

"Pete?" he asks and I hear him trudging up the stairs, "Did you hear me?"  
>"Yes. I heard you, Ed," I lazily reply.<p>

"Well, Mum wants to make sure we're all downstairs and 'cheery' when dad comes home. So you better get a move on," he chides and I bring my head out of the pillow long enough to cast him a glare.

"What are you even doing up here? You almost never come downstairs anymore," he wonders, eyeing up the book on my desk.  
>"Don't worry about it, Ed," I roll my eyes, letting my head sink back into the pillow.<br>"Mark Twain, Peter? What _is_ this?"

My head snaps up so fast I nearly give myself whiplash and I find Edmund leafing through the novel.

"Don't touch it!" I bound across the room to snatch it from his hands.  
>"Why? It's just a book," he shrugs his shoulders.<br>"It's _not_...just a book," I retort, making sure he didn't damage it.  
>"And it's bloody difficult to read. Why do you even bother?" he walks past me to sit on the end of his bed.<p>

"Because!" I whip around ready to berate him for his blasé attitude but then I realize I just don't have it in me to fight him anymore and my voice drops down to a whisper, "Because she told me about it."

I don't even have to tell Edmund who it is I'm talking about, he just knows.

"It makes me feel like she's still around," I add with another sigh.  
>"Is it working?" Ed asks.<br>"What do you mean?" I shake my head.  
>"I mean, does it make you feel better?"<p>

I suppose in some ways it does. It makes me feel closer to her but then I remember that she didn't want me. What does it matter if I feel closer to her? Why do I have this constant need to remember everything about her? Why does she even matter so much? I wish to God I could just forget her and move on but I can't. Nothing is going to bring me closure.

Nothing but going back.

Nothing but seeing her one more time.

"I don't know," I whisper, my gaze dropping to my fidgeting hands.

For a few moments Edmund simply gazes at me, trying to figure out what to say.

"She'll be happy, y'know, when we go back?" he finally says and I snort.  
>"She hated me when we left. I made sure of that," I remind him.<br>"Bloody hell, are you honestly that _dense_? Evi loved you, Peter. Everyone saw it except you. Even after you two had it out," he challenges, rising from the bed and disappearing down the hall before I can get word out in protest.

_Evi loved you, Peter._

That wasn't the first time Edmund's said that to me. Each time I'm filled with so much bitterness that's so hard to shake but this time is different. Maybe it's the way he said it...he sounded almost _bored_. It wasn't even like he was trying to convince me of something I know to be false, it was just natural, _obvious_.

_Everyone saw it except you_.

Could I really have been blinded that badly by my pain?

Is it even _possible_ that she really loved _me_?

My gaze lands on _Huck Finn_ sitting perfectly on my desk and I'm suddenly remembering why it is I persist through it...

_When I told Evelyn that I loved her, I expected her to run away...avoid me at all costs. For a while I thought I had finally scared her away, pushed her away from me for good. But she reacted in the completely opposite way. She melted in my touch, matched my smiles, followed me into our hidden corridors. Though she's never said so, I'm almost positive her feelings are just as strong as mine._

_We've pushed our luck so many times the past year I'm surprised she's even still in Narnia._

_Things have gotten...heated...and by heated I mean that Evi really should _not_ still be in Narnia. _

_But she is. _

_And we keep testing those waters. _

_"Evelyn? Are you in here?" I call out, strolling into the library. I haven't seen her all day and nearly everyone in the castle has been looking for her. Naturally I went looking for her down at the beach, but she was nowhere to be seen. On my way back to the castle I ran into Greywind and she said I might find Evi in the library, if I was subtle about it. _

_Silence falls after the sound of my own voice fades and I curiously glance up at the upper levels of the library, holding back a smirk as I hear the shuffling of feet somewhere on the third balcony._

_"Evelyn?" I call again, starting up the spiral staircase, "Ono and Adelaide have been looking for you. Apparently you're little stint with the horses yesterday—"_

_I'm cut off as a hand clamps firmly around my mouth and I'm dragged somewhere in the recesses of the stacks—the farthest shelves away from the entrance. _

_"Shhhh," Evi hisses, forcing me against the wall, listening intently as Finnick's and Adelaide's voices resound from the levels below us. All I can do is amusedly smirk at her as Finnick and Adelaide make a quick round through the library before leaving. _

_"What are you doing up here?" I fold my arms across my chest, still smirking down at her.  
><em>_"Isn't it obvious? Hiding from Finnick," she smirks back at me, "And _you_ nearly blew my cover, you twat," she jabs at my stomach.  
><em>_"Is that any way to speak to your king?" I laugh, batting her hands away._

_"You're a riot, Pete, honestly," she drawls, sitting cross-legged on the floor as she picks up a small leather-bound book. I notice, as I take a seat next to her, that she's let her hair down and is wearing nothing but her under-tunic and trousers, her boots tucked away in a corner. _

_"It appears we had similar ideas this morning," I muse, referring to my similar style of dress, not quite feeling up to dressing appropriately.  
><em>_"I'm sure Adelaide loved seeing you run about the castle in naught but your skivvies," she smirks, not taking her eyes from her book.  
><em>_"The chambermaids sure did," I grin and that comment garners a pointed frown from her.  
><em>_"Sorry, _Your Grace, _but you'll have to shed a lot more if you're looking to impress a girl from the 21st Century_," _she furrows an eyebrow. _

_I only chuckle in response. Evi has this knack for making me feel more like the young twenty-something I am rather than a king. I enjoy the way I feel around her. I don't have to put up a front, act all responsible and proper. I can just have _fun_ every once in a while. _

_"So, aside from hiding from Finnick, what have you been doing up here _all_ day long," I ask, snatching the book right from her hands.  
><em>_"Well, Your Grace, just because _you_ have the mental capacity of a minotaur does not mean the rest of us do," she quips, trying to wrestle the book back.  
><em>_"A minotaur, eh?" I hold it above my head, grinning as she tries to reach it.  
><em>_"Yes. Now give me my book back," she demands. _

_"Persuade me," I say.  
><em>_"Peter, please, I'm in the middle of the chapter," she whines and I only chuckle.  
><em>_"Like I said," I force her back down onto the ground, "Persuade me." _

_She lets out a large huff and I can tell she's trying hard not to enjoy my ruse. _

_"Peter Pevensie, I will not play this game with you and you _will_ give me my book back," she points a finger at me.  
><em>_"And you, Evelyn Wood, are much too wound up and need to relax," I laugh as she swipes the book back from my hands.  
><em>_"I could if it weren't for High Kings and their dirty antics," she flashes me a satisfied grin as she settles herself in my lap, her book in hand. _

_To be honest, I don't even care that she's more absorbed in the book than she is me. Just to have her in my arms is enough. She used to tense up at my touch, resist me when I put my arms around her. So when she lets out a sigh and snuggles into my chest, I can't help the smile that graces my lips and the chuckle that follows. _

_"All the time we have spent in here searching for word on the Witch I never once thought to pick up a Narnian novel," she lets out a contented sigh, glancing up at me with those dark blue orbs of hers. _

_"Did you read a lot back home?" I ask, loving any chance I get to learn more about Evi's life in the future, "People still read in the future?"  
><em>_"Ha ha. Again, you're a _riot_, Peter," she wedges her elbow in my ribs, scrambling to her feet before I could pull her back down to retaliate, "I was obsessed with reading back home. The s_tories_ people would come up with, Peter, you wouldn't believe! I loved it all, fantasy, romance, mystery."_

_I propped myself up on my elbows, watching her rave with a wide smile. I love when she goes off on her tangents. _

_"And which was your favorite?" I ask.  
><em>_"Must you make me choose?" she pouts.  
><em>_"Only one," I shrug and I see her go into deep thought. _

_She paces back and forth, her lips moving but no sound coming from them. _

_"While we're still young," I tease receiving quite the menacing glare in return.  
><em>_"Peter, I can't pick just _one_," she throws up her hands, "It's between The Great Gatsby and the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn."  
><em>_"The first one I have heard of but the second?"  
><em>_"It's by Mark Twain. He's recognized as one the greatest American authors and one the novel itself is considered the Great American Novel," she explains.  
><em>_"Well, why's that?"_

_"Because it was written in the vernacular, capturing the 'spirit of the times' as they say. The entire book is a satire with several other smaller satires in certain chapters. I hated reading it for school but afterwards I could appreciate everything about it. The themes, symbols, and all the other figurative language. The Great Gatsby is my other favorite for the same reasons. Oh, Peter, there's so much I wish I could show you!"_

_She unexpectedly tackles me over, straddling my waist and interlocking her fingers with mine as my hands are pinned to the floor. _

_"What I would give for just one day in New York with you. Take you to a Yankees game, see Wicked on Broadway, shop in Times Square," she sighs, and I can see her eyes go very distant, almost as if she were remembering some fond memory. I tuck her hair behind her ears, echoing her sigh. _

_"What _I _would give just to have you for one night," I breathe, my eyes locked in with hers, "I love you, Evi."  
><em>_"I know, Peter," she whispers back and I feel her hands squeeze mine, "If I could do it all over again, you know I would. Right?"_

_I only nod, my constricted throat not able to release any words as her hands slide from my hands and down to my chest. With a couple tugs, she pulls me back up into a sitting position her legs still wrapped around my body. Her hand glides back up my chest and up to the side of my face, sweeping my hair from my forehead._

_"I wish I could go back and do it over again," she whispers..._

Back then I always thought she was referring to the foolish things we did as hormonal teenagers. It never once occurred to me that she was talking about love.

Say she did.

Say she honestly and _truly_ loved me.

Why, then, did she lie to me?

* * *

><p><strong>- x -<br>****Evi  
><strong>**- x -**

* * *

><p>"Who are you?"<br>"W-well, it's me...Evi. Don't you recognize me?" I struggle to find words.  
>"Are you another one of my nurses?" she blinks her eyes at me.<br>"No, Susan, we're not," Finnick slowly answers, sitting down next to me, "Do you recognize me?" Susan is silent once more as she carefully looks him over.

"I do not but I certainly wouldn't mind if _you_ replaced Hannah," she grins, sipping her tea again. Finnick lets out a slight chuckle but stops immediately upon seeing the upset look on my face.

I know I shouldn't be so upset and surprised that Susan doesn't remember us. I should have expected something like this, I know. I _did_ expect this...but it just doesn't make it any easier.

"Do you remember anything from Narnia?" I ask and she suddenly drops her cup, the glass shattering when it hits the wood floor.  
>"Whatdidyousay?" she furiously asks, her face suddenly turning dark, her eyes alight with terror.<br>"I asked if you remember anything," I repeat, startled by her frenzied reaction.  
>"No, no that <em>word<em>..."

"Narnia?" I unsurely say, glancing to Finnick and she nearly topples out of her wheelchair.

"How could you _possibly_ know the game we used to play!" she shrieks, "Don't _ever_ mention that word again! I've had enough of _Narnia_! They used to tell me it was _real_! That I was a _Queen_! They wouldn't leave me _alone_. So I left! I had enough of the lot of them!"

"Your siblings?" I ask, wondering if the others have forgotten as well.  
>"Yes my siblings!" she shouts back, "Nutters! The lot of them!"<p>

Then her face grows awfully pallid, her eyes instantly swimming with tears.

"I should not have said that," she shakes her head, her hands trembling even more, "I did not mean it. They were lovely people."

Finnick and I exchange wary glances. Something is not right. Even Granddad didn't have episodes like this.

"Susan," I gently say, bringing her hands away from her face, "Where are your siblings? Where are Peter, Lucy, and Edmund?"  
>"My parents...everyone I loved," she wails, tears now falling from her eyes, "I had to go by myself and identify their bodies. Every single one of them."<br>"Susan—" I press, still not understanding her ramblings.

"They're DEAD! They are all _DEAD_! Don't you understand, you stupid girl? A train derailed and killed them all over 60 years ago! My _entire_ family wiped out in an instant!"

Before I could register what was happening, I was outside, vomiting in the nearest hedge as icy rain pounds on my back and a storm rages above in the clouds. It's only coming out as bile, my stomach struggling to bring up anything else, but the pain it brings cannot even _begin_ to dominate the pain in my heart. I can't even breathe, my chest is moving but I feel like I can't get any oxygen in. My head begins to swim and eventually a strangled, pain-filled sob escapes my lips but is only drowned out by a startling crack of thunder.

The dances with Edmund, the talks with Lucy, the illicit dealings with Peter in the woods and in the library...every good memory I have of Peter, Edmund, and sweet little Lucy, they all bring up more agonizing sobs.

"Peter, I'm sorry!" I scream into the wailing of the storm, not even realizing how my knees are digging into the cement of the sidewalk, "I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"

Maybe if it had been of old age.

I could have accepted that.

Could have dealt with that.

But it wasn't.

A _train_ killed them. All of them. That picture upstairs in Susan's room could've been his last one. Before the train.

Oh God, the_ train_.

My dream.

My stomach lurches and again I'm dry-heaving into the hedge as that wretched dream sears through my mind. I've been watching them _die_, over and over again.

And I was _with_ them.

"Bloody hell, Evi," I hear Finnick say, bringing me away from the pool of vomit.

"We should never have come!" he yells above the roar of the storm, leading me down the road back to the Underground...


	5. Crazy Circles

**Thank you, soulsistersinaslan, Raextreme, princess emma of narnia, and LadyMidnight30 for your reviews! And thank you everyone else who has subscribed! **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 Crazy Circles<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>- x -<br>****Peter  
><strong>**- x -**

* * *

><p>"You nearly ready, Pete?" Edmund swings on the door frame just as I'm adjusting my tie.<br>"Give me a minute," I say, tucking in my shirt as I go to the closet to retrieve my school bag.

It's the first day of school back at the Hendon House. I'll be glad when I go back, summer was just too painful. I had far too much time to myself and it always led to somewhere I didn't want to be...And I'm getting restless. It's been a year since we've come back from Narnia and Aslan did say we would return. I can't wait much longer. There's so much I need to do.

So much I need to tell Evi.

"What if she's not there," I say aloud, not realising Edmund is still in the room.  
>"Sorry?" he startles me.<br>"Oh...I uh...well."

He sighs, grabbing his own school bag, "You were thinking about her, weren't you?"

As much as I don't like to admit it, Edmund is a good man to talk to. For a while after we returned he was a right little git—which he still can be—but eventually I was able to open up to him.

"I want to go back, Ed," I say, barely hearing myself speak.  
>"We will," he nods.<br>"And what if she's not there?" I look at him, not trying to conceal my worry.  
>"She will be. She has to be," he says, glancing down at his watch, "We've got to go or we'll miss the train."<p>

I nod, "I'll meet you downstairs with the girls."

Edmund seems so confident.

The fact is, I really haven't a clue what I would do if I saw her again.

* * *

><p><strong>- x -<br>****Evi  
><strong>**- x -**

* * *

><p>After the disaster at Susan's, Finnick said we were leaving the next day. He decided for us both it would be better if we didn't go to the cemetery to visit the others. He told me to go to bed and rest, that he'd wake me up in the morning when we had to get ready.<p>

But when have I _actually_ listened to Finnick?

When I snuck out of the hotel, the sun was just beginning to rise and the storm had subsided some, but as I step out of the Tube a steady, chill rain is still falling. Hendon Cemetery isn't much farther so I just walk the rest of the way, not bothering to wipe away my warm tears as they mix with the cool rain. Upon entering the cemetery grounds, I find myself underwhelmed by the size and decide to simply wander until I find them.

I suppose, in a way, it's me trying to avoid seeing them, to avoid reality. It's almost like if I don't see them buried in the cemetery, they aren't really dead...they're still here...just waiting for me to visit. Even if I already know that's not true.

In my pocket, I feel my phone furiously vibrating again. Several times on the way here it rang but I didn't bothering picking up because I knew it would just be an angry Finnick. Now that I'm here, I could hardly care less what he has to say.

"What?" I answer, not at all invested in this call.  
><em>"Where the hell are you? I woke up and you weren't in your room!"<em> he angrily speaks on the other end.  
>"I'm at the cemetery," I tell him, glancing at all the headstones around me before moving on.<br>_"Evi, I _told_ you not to go! Why do always insist on putting yourself in such misery? Get on the train and get back here! We've got a plane to catch!_" he barks.  
>"Sorry, Finnick," I abruptly hang up.<p>

And then I find them.

Tucked under an old oak tree.

A choked sob catches in my throat as my eyes rove over the glossy marble of Lucy's, Edmund's, and Peter's stones, next to their parents Helen and Hector.

1949.

My knees sink into grass and mud as I collapse to the ground in front of the marble. I not able to really do anything but stare. The tears fall but not a single sob comes from my mouth. My hand is raised but I can't bring myself to place it on the stone

They're really gone.

They were only kids...their whole lives ahead of them...then all of a sudden—nothing.

Peter.

He was only twenty-three.

He never knew how much I loved him.

I never got to tell him.

He never knew.

He died thinking I hated him.

"I'm so sorry, Peter," I finally whisper, letting my fingers curl into the engraved black letters on the stone.

Peter William Pevensie

Beloved Son and Loving Brother

1926-1949

He's gone.

I'll never see him again.

He's _gone_.

The tightness in my chest finally reaches the point that I cannot contain it anymore, a torturous, agonizing sob wracking my body as I lay out onto his stone, my tears pooling into the letters. The marble soothes my burning skin in a way that the rain can't but it does little to ease to ease my pain. My fingers dig harshly into the stone as my body convulses with each new wave of distraught emotion and I—ouch!

I sharply recoil from the stone.

The damn thing shocked me!

And then I feel another one, then another and another. Then a deafening roar of noise startles me to my feet and I'm frantically looking around as my body feels like it's being pinched and pulled in every direction. My stomach twists and turns and my head reels as I cover my eyes with my hands, just wanting it to _stop_. Just when I think I can't withstand it any longer—it stops.

Instead of the unnerving roar in my ears, I hear the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore. Then I notice that it's no longer raining, my skin tingling under the warmth of the sun's vibrant rays.

I swallow hard.

Do I even _dare_ open my eyes?

Curiosity gets the better of me and my eyes open, the sight of my surroundings nearly rendering me unconscious.

Narnia.

I'm back.

* * *

><p><strong>- x -<br>****Simon  
><strong>**- x -**

* * *

><p>My name is Simon Beckett. My father was Maxwell Beckett. He was General of Narnia. My mother was the star Ilyria. My wife was Princess Anneliese. And my daughter is Evelyn Beckett.<p>

They tell me to keep repeating what I know in the hopes that more of my memory will come back to me. But after two weeks in this world, Earth, nothing has changed.

So they have me train.

Physical and endurance tests are no problem and after a couple hours, so were weapons tests. But then they handed me something called a gun...and they cut my hair short, handing me world-appropriate clothing, telling me to blend in and assimilate. I've never faced anything more challenging.

The guns are loud.

The clothes are baggy.

The technology is complicated.

And these peoples' customs are illogical.

Notus—the Boreade— quickly noticed that I was going to need a lot more training before they send me into the field. So after only three days they sent me "out west" where the grasp of The Sorcerer is less pronounced but the regions are less developed and populated. What were once great cities are now ruins overgrown by all kinds of foliage. The Narnians who have been here from the beginning of the Great Decline tell me that this country was massive, bigger than Narnia, Archenland, and Calormen combined. But since The Sorcerer took control war has ravaged these poor people wiping out half this country and turning the rest of the world into a barren wasteland.

It's quite sad.

But amidst all the chaos, there are places that are quite breathtaking.

Out in the west there are extensive forests, luscious gorges, and beaches so long they seem to stretch on forever. The compound they took me to is along those beaches and whenever I'm not training I find myself wading in the salty sea water.

It reminds me of Narnia, the tranquility and beauty of it all. Granted the Great Eastern Sea wasn't nearly as cold...but...even still...it's as close to home as I can get.

"This used to be a desert, Death Valley, they called it," I slightly jump at the sound of the girl's voice behind me.

At least, she appears to be a girl but the the way she holds herself, the spark in her eye...they all betray someone with the wisdom and knowledge of an elder.

"You were among the first Narnians brought to this world?" I wonder.  
>"Yes, even before the Great Decline," she says, rolling up her trousers to step into the water.<br>"But...that must've been over a century ago," I frown with a small shake of my head.  
>"Aye. Arma has meddled in yet another world in which he doesn't belong...time and aging means nothing in this world and its citizens are blissfully unaware," she sighs.<p>

When she looks at me, I'm stunned by the color of her eyes, a striking golden color. Even by Narnian standards they are unusual...more beast-like than human.

"Arma? I've heard that name before," I tear my eyes from hers and look back out at the ocean.

The girl heaves another sigh, this one heavier than the last.

"I'm not sure I should tell you, My Lord. Notus has given us all strict orders not to feed you information that may generate false memories," she explains.  
>"Oh," I nod, feeling my shoulders slump.<p>

I don't like being kept in the dark. I don't like not knowing who I am. I don't like how everyone treats me like a youngling. I'm a soldier. I understand pain. I understand suffering and battle and strategy. Yes, I was a little unnerved when I first came to this world but they give me no credit for all that I have done in Narnia.

"I have upset you," she bows her head, "Forgive me, My Lord, it was not my intention."  
>"Only you and Notus address me as Lord. I am no Lord," I shake my head.<br>"You are the son of General Beckett and the father of General Wood. You _are_ a Lord," she assures me.

My former bitterness melts away as I'm reminded that my little girl was turned into a warrior. It is not the life I wanted for her—that much I know—even if I can't remember her face.

"If you arrived here with Notus...does that...did you know my Evelyn as well?" I expectantly ask her.  
>"I should hope so," she chuckles, "I was her Familiar."<br>"A Familiar?"  
>"Yes. In Narnia, I was gryphon by the name of Greywind but when I was ripped from Aslan's Country I was turned into a human. Imagine my surprise," she grins, making me chuckle.<p>

"Can you tell me about her?" I slowly ask, wading back to shore.  
>"I suppose, since Lady Evelyn was never really part of your past, it wouldn't hurt," she joins me in the sand, "What do you wish to know?"<p>

Greywind and I spend the entire afternoon on the beach, her regaling me with stories from the Golden Age of Narnia and my Evelyn's part in it. Each story made me prouder than the last. Evelyn took what was given to her and never gave up, never lost hope but it was also heart-breaking. She never knew who she was, never got to live a full life with the man she loved. It's all so...tragic. My only hope is that—wherever she is—she has finally found peace.

* * *

><p><strong>- x -<br>****Evi  
><strong>**- x -**

* * *

><p>It's hard to breathe as I wrap my head around the scene before me.<p>

Narnia.

I'm _back._

I can't even think about anything else but that fact.

How is this even _possible_?

And then I'm suddenly scared that this is all a dream, that one movement in any direction will cause me to wake up back in England. A small rustling off to my left startles me and I spin around, smiling as I realize it was only a small chipmunk. I chuckle as I finally accept that I really am back, the little mammal darting off into the brush.

Gathering my bearings, I find myself smack in the middle of some ancient-looking ruins. This makes me frown as I slide my hand over the rough, white stone.

There are no ruins in Narnia.

And yet...I'm in the middle of a huge mass of crumbled stone and bricks, trees, vines, and shrubbery covering it all in a lush green blanket. It's quite lonely and my stomach turns as I suddenly realize there isn't a single soul around.

Not far from where I am, I spot a ruined section of stairs that appears to be rather sound. So I use it to get a better idea of my surroundings and maybe I can figure out just where in Narnia I am. As I begin my tottering ascent, I'm painfully aware of how out of shape I am.

It's strange, though. With each new step, I somehow feel like my body is regaining its former stature. My balance is precise, I'm exerting hardly any energy as I pull myself up, and my footfalls are graceful and light. It's like I never left. I'm confident and sure of myself even if I don't know where I am. That doesn't matter to me, though. All that matters is that I'm home and as I reach the top of the stairs a sense of extreme belonging swells in my heart.

Off in front of me at the bottom of a steep bluff is the Great Eastern Sea, a gust of wind carrying its signature salty, clean scent into my nostrils. The cry of a seagull brings my attention to the sky and I follow the bird's flight until it stops some distance away. My heart sinks as I discover I'm in the middle of an island. Ruins cover nearly the entire speck of land and a disturbing thought grips me as I stare at a series of worn down pillars.

Narnia was left without a King and without a General at a period when tensions were running high with bordering nations. Things probably quickly deteriorated into chaos not long after we left, with no enforced law. I can only imagine the attacks the people had to endure...

Much easier now, I scale back down the series of steps to find my way off this little rock. I would have to find my way to Cair Paravel if I wanted to figure out the state of things around Narnia. If only I knew where I was...

"It's getting late, you know. Look how long the shadows are."  
>"Do you think we should've helped him?"<br>"Oh he'll manage well enough on his own. Get him off his high horse maybe."

The series of voices startles me into hiding, my muscles painfully tensing as I realize I am without a viable weapon to defend myself. The footsteps draw nearer and the voices grow louder. I risk a glance around the wall of stone and suddenly see that I won't be needing any sort of weapon.

"It's not possible," I breathe, staring wide-eyed at three of the four Pevensie's, Edmund, Lucy, and Susan alive and well. I literally cannot breathe and I'm positive my heart stops beating in my chest.

"Edmund?" I tentatively call out, slowly rolling onto my knees into their line of sight.

The dark-haired boy turns around with an apple in hand and his face instantly lights up with a smile.

"Evelyn!" he laughs.  
>"Edmund!" I shout back, stumbling up from my hiding place and unable to prevent the frantic tears from tumbling down my cheeks as I run straight for him.<p>

"Evi!"  
>"Evelyn!"<p>

Lucy and Susan have spotted me now but they're blocked from my view as Edmund swallows me up in his tall frame. Nothing can stop the happy reunion as Lucy and Edmund, and even Susan, shower me with hugs and cheerful greetings. The feeling of them swallowing me up in their arms is enough to bring more tears that blind my vision as I'm laughing and smiling, hugging each one of them.

They're very much alive.

I don't even care how.

It doesn't matter.

They're _alive_.

"You're here," I laugh while wiping away the tears from my face, only for more to tumble in their place. They're still teenagers, just like me, and they're loosely dressed in what appears to be their school uniforms. I say loosely because they stink of saltwater and are barefoot, giving me the impression that they just took a swim in the ocean.

"I can't believe it," I shake my head smiling through my tears, "You're _here_."

They are all smiling as if not believing it themselves.

"But where's—"

"Kind of you lot to wait for me. What's the hold up?"

Edmund and Susan turn around and stepping apart as Peter finally joins the rest of us but his progress is stopped short as he catches sight of me. For a moment, he just stands there, mouth agape, eyes wide with surprise.

"Peter," I choke out throwing myself against his chest, and holding him for everything that I'm worth as my face burns with tears. I commit everything—and I mean _everything_—to memory about this moment. The salty sea smell of his skin mixing with the detergent and cologne of his clothes. The way his heart is racing unstoppably in his chest. The pleasant, tingling warmth Peter's arms create around me. The way his damp blonde hair feels between my fingers. I'm so absorbed in holding him for dear life that I don't recognize the awkwardness of his return embrace.

I hadn't considered the bad terms on which we separated.

This thought startles me away from him and I sheepishly look at him and the others, seeing they're all quite confused.

"I'm-I'm sorry...J-just give me a minute, okay?" I plead, not able to stop the flow of tears that does not seem to want to stop.

If they were confused before, then they must all be totally baffled now as I give them all a weak smile before stalking off. I meander on down the hill from where they came, stumbling into a thick apple orchard. Once I'm sure they're out of ear shot, I let out the sob that I've been withholding.

Completely tactless.

That's what that was.

I mean what was I thinking? Going and _mauling_ him like that?

That's just it.

He was _dead_.

All my apologies were into pure air. He's never heard _any _of them. He probably still believes I hate him, that I'm still with Finnick.

I take a deep breath, wiping away my tears and shaking out my hands as I try to regain my composure.

Reconciling with Peter is going to take a lot more than just a simple apology...if we even _can_ reconcile.

"Exactly _what_ are you wearing?"

Edmund's voice startles me but I'm unable to find it in myself to be angry with him. I just chuckles, waiting as he jogs over to me.

"Not the usual reaction I get but I'll take it," he grins.

I can't help but stop and hug him the manner I did with Peter. Edmund is much more receptive to the gesture, tightly bringing me into his chest with his arms.

"What was that for?" he softly asks, brushing away a couple tears lingering on my cheeks.  
>"I missed you," I answer, my voice barely above a whisper.<p>

"So where _did_ you get those clothes, Evi?" he asks, eyeing my jeans and asymmetrical gray top.  
>"Oh um," I glance down, bouncing on my toes in my bright purple converse, "What do you mean?"<br>"Is that what Narnians are wearing nowadays?" he skeptically asks.

They don't know I left.

"Edmund, I haven't _been_ in Narnia," I say.


	6. Brief Update!

Hey guys!

I just wanted to give you all an update since I've gone MIA for months on end. College got the best of me this semester so I've had virtually no time to write new chapters. But fear not! I still intend to continue. I've got the rest of this week and part of next week for my finals and then I'm free for the summer!

I'll be working pretty much full time over the summer but I'll have plenty of time to write more chapters.

So sorry folks, just hold out a little longer!


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